Flames
by Emmyluv803
Summary: A short story about the power of love.


**WARNING: Contains sexual content **

Michaela ran her hair through her plait, hastily combing it until it fell all the way to her hips, and then she inhaled and submerged herself. She pushed herself in mercilessly, feeling the gooseflesh rise bump by bump. Under the water she opened her eyes, and came almost face to face with a turtle, which started away with a woosh. She broke the surface of the water and began to swim slowly toward a small island in the middle of the lake.

By the time she reached it she dragged herself up on the bank with her arms slightly trembling from the swim. There was a patch of warm sunlight and a small grove of paper birches, slender and whispering among themselves in the breeze. Michaela used one of them to sit against, drawing her knees under her chin and lifting her face to the sunlight. Her hair hung veillike around her, the shorter strands already drying in the breeze.

On the lake, there was little sign of wildlife, with the exception of the usual birds fishing. At this moment astag came out of the shadows and into the sunlight. He was very large and stood in the light, his rough coat shining deep tan, his ears lolling as he looked toward her. He was not at all far away; she could see the rim of brown in each of his eyes, and the glint of his teeth. Michaela sat very still, wondering why he was staring at her so intensely. So concentrated that she didn't notice Sully until he had already stripped and entered the water.

He felt the cold of the water in his gut, but the sight of Michaela brought his blood up warm. She stood on the bank waving at him. She couldn't have any idea how she looked, how that gesture made the wet shift strain against her. The dark circles of her nipples, and the darker triangle between her thighs. She stood there waving at him with no hint of the turmoil she was causing. The wet fabric clung to her breast, perfectly round. Sully concentrated on moving himself through the water because the sight of her was too much to bear.

He came to his feet and walked onto the bank knowing his arousal was plain to her; his breeches revealed rather than hid it. He saw this in her dazed look, her eyes half closed in anticipation already, before he ever touched her. He heard her draw in a breath, but then she looked away behind him to the far shore, distracted. He frowned and pulled her to him without discussion. Her mouth was warm and she came to him willingly, pressing up against him in spite of the cold lake water that ran off him to soak her again.

"There was a stag." she mumbled when he came up for air. He would have laughed, if there hadn't been such a fire in him, to need her now, and without delay. He lowered her head to hers again, and then lowered her on her back. Before he got her shift off her he had broken a tie, but she didn't complain; instead she reached for the button on his trousers.

"Come to me," he whispered to her, pulling her underneath him.

Michaela looked up into Sully's face, felt his breath on her skin. There was something in his expression she couldn't quite place. He was frantic with it, with the need; she had never seen him like this before, and it excited her. She cried out them, at the strength and at his urgency. There was a sudden sharp pain in her lower belly; she tensed, but it was gone before she could even gasp. Sully was still with her, murmuring to her, sweet words at her ear, the flat of his tongue on her neck, holding himself over her with one arm, the other hand beneath her, pulling her up to him again and again, harder and harder still. When she began to shudder he raised his head and watched her, a fierce satisfaction on his face.

"Mercy," she gasped.

He shook his head, splattering her with lake water.

Sully knew he was pushing her, maybe too hard. He moved in her without any concern for her comfort, focused only on the gathering tension that boiled up from the center of him in response to her warmth.

She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, then, and she felt the first trickling break in the dam inside her. He thrust himself deeper into her, met her tongue with his own, and then it happened; she let go, every muscle in her first relaxing and then flexing around him. It was the kiss, the depth, and intensity of it, that sent her over the edge. He wondered if she heard, from a deep place inside her, the sounds of her own surrender, but he couldn't stop to ask her or even comfort her.

Sully found himself up on his knees, holding her tightly in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist. He had no memory of lifting her, or how they came to this position, but her bottom was cushioned against his tensed thighs and her arms were wound around his neck. He pulled her waist in with one arm and thrust one last time, searching with his mouth for hers in the wild confusion of her hair.

"Open to me," he whispered.

His release came then with hers. It left him in long, slow ribbons flowing into her. She reared back her head to look into his eyes and saw it there, her awareness of her pulsing and the power of her response.

. . .

She was near sleep almost as soon as he lowered her to the bank, a stunned look on her face and the deep flush that ran from her breasts to her hairline already beginning to mottle. Sully curled himself against her on one side, brushed her hair away from her face.

"Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, and then with a visible effort, turned on her side to fit herself to him.

"Never."


End file.
